Cutty
Chapter 29 The Party

Copyright© 2019 by bokkey

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 29 The Party - The mysterious ms Brendan wants a lesbian relationship with Donna, and more...

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Fa/ft   Blackmail   Coercion   Slavery   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Fiction   Slut Wife   BDSM   DomSub   FemaleDom   Rough   Spanking   Group Sex   Oral Sex  

“We’re here,” Ninon said.

Donna looked out of the car at Ms. Brendan’s mansion. Lots of cars were parked on the sides of the street, and even into the side streets. The garden in front of the building was full of bright lights. Attendants were guiding the visitors into the building, valets parking cars, waiters serving drinks to the few guest lingering outside in the cold. It looked like any other ordinary party of the very rich.

“We go to the back.” Ninon said as she slowly drove past the house and took a turn at the next crossing.

“You’re not a guest.” she smiled wickedly at Donna.

Donna couldn’t think straight with all the drugs that she recently had been given. Whenever her mind did clear, she felt pain all over her body. In her mouth, her face, everywhere where her clothing touched her body, where her body touched the car-seat.

She was glad when her mind would fog over again, and the pain lessened.

Donna stared vacantly out of the car window from the back seat at the surroundings of the estate where she had been brought. The car drove to the back of the mansion, through a gate that closed automatically as they passed and was soon out of sight behind a high fence.

Donna had had no idea that there was a fence that big at the rear of Ms. Brendan’s property. She had only seen the large garden but now noticed a large wall that stretched all the way across the rear, blocking the view of the neighbors. It was obvious that Ms. Brendan wanted no prying eyes.

They drove on to a small, secluded area with a few small brick buildings. The narrow road was made from the same square stones, and with the tall trees and the lanterns ablaze, it all seemed so picturesque.

Servants were hurriedly running between the buildings and over the hill to the mansion, carrying various trays and baskets. The small houses were obviously used as stock rooms.

“I’ll help you get out.” Ninon said as she unbuckled herself.

As she walked to Donna’s side of the car, Ninon stopped to chat with one woman and greeted several others.

Donna noticed that there were only women walking by. Some were waitresses, others were cooks and the like, others mere hired general helpers, just as there would be at any fancy affair. Everyone was busy fetching drinks, food, organizing, cleaning.

And there were women, Donna saw, walking around dressed much more inappropriately.

A women who looked to be about Donna’s age passed by walking on plateau shoes, fishnet stockings, a very short skirt, busy buttoning some sort of corset, one that didn’t even attempt to cover her breasts.

As Donna followed the lady walking in the cold over the small hill up to the mansion Ninon knocked on the window.

“Come, get out,” Ninon ordered gently.

Donna slowly moved and opened her door. Ninon helped her get out of the car. The cold breeze reminded Donna that she was wearing only a short skirt and an open blouse.

Her inflamed skin couldn’t bear contact, so she had left her blouse unbuttoned. Nor had she been capable of fixing her other clothes properly in her drugged daze.

Feeling funny as she stood, Donna increasingly grew dizzy even as the cold roused her from her murky state. She stumbled a bit as Ninon placed her shoulders under Donna’s arm and hoisted her to her feet.

“Let’s deliver you.”

They walked into one of the buildings, and then into a room where two young women sat, chatting with one another.

“Ah, there is ... Cutty, right?” one of them said, as she got up.

The woman was wearing normal clothes, even a bit scruffy, and simple worn out sneakers. When Donna saw the comfy footwear, she felt her feet ache in their high heels. It had been a long time since Donna’s feet had felt sneakers, too long; Donna envied the girl.

“Come, let me have a look,” the girl said. “Sonia help me out here, she’s got to undress completely, also the shoes.”

She took the slumbering Donna over from Ninon, and as she steadied Donna upright, the other woman, Sonia, started to pull off Donna’s tiny skirt.

“Okay, I can see that Cutty’s in good hands. Here’s her bag ... with all of the requested accessories. I will go home now it’s been a long day.” Ninon said as she placed one of Donna’s large handbags on a chair.

It contained ‘Lenny’ Donna knew, but what else? And why?

Donna didn’t have time to think about it, as she was stripped naked and led to a table with paint cans on it. On the ground nearby newspapers were spread to protect the floor.

Expertly, they cuffed her hands, pulled them above her head and clipped them to a ring in the ceiling. A ball gag was forced in to her gapping mouth.

All of this was intensely painful despite the fact that Donna was sedated. Her pain nerves were working overtime.

“There, that’s done,” the first woman said with a tone of triumph as Donna hung helplessly from the ceiling.

She proceeded to tie Donna’s hair straight backwards, painfully stretching the skin on her forehead. Donna moaned into her gag, but with that and her anesthetized tongue she made little noise.

Donna buckled a bit but even her squirming was barely noticed.

The women placed earplugs in her ears, deafening her totally.

Sonia fetched a leather mask and gave it to the other woman, who pulled it over Donna’s head, blinding her. The straps at the back were fastened tight, and the leather painfully pulled on the already much abused skin on her face.

Donna squirmed once more in pain. She was happy that the anesthesia the doctor had given her was still working but knew this treatment would cause her a lot of pain in the coming days. The doctor had told her to be very careful with the new skin the first days.

Donna panicked as now she was blind, deaf, and numb, totally helpless.

“Test ... test ... test. Can you hear us? If you can hear us please nod, Cutty.”

The earplugs were small headphones! Donna nodded, glad she could hear something again.

Someone detached a strip of leather from her eyes and Donna could see. She looked straight into the eyes of the sneaker girl, who held up a microphone.

“Now you can see and hear us...” and everything went silent again.

Donna saw the girl scream into the mike.

“Okay, it seems to be working.” The voice was back again.

“Now you just keep still and follow our commands.”

Everything went silent again and they replaced the leather blindfold. They adjusted the mask again somewhat. Donna noticed that the mask left her face visible and covered only her hair and from below her jaw.

They started to coat her body with something warm, and sticky. The two women covered her entire body; legs, arms breasts, ass, everything. Donna felt the gooey liquid quickly dry and stretch itself onto her skin.

They kept on ‘painting’ her and Donna wondered what they were doing to her. The material began to irritate her supersensitive skin, but she had no way to tell them, apart from some misunderstood wiggling.

When they finished, Donna felt she had been coated all over with some rubbery substance, like a thick paint. They left her for like an eternity hanging, unable to see or hear anything. As she dangled, the material clung to her skin ever tighter as it dried, increasing her pain.

“They have to know that I am not supposed to put anything on my skin for days. But now they coated me with some sort of paint,” Donna wondered. “How could they, how could Ninon let them do this?”

Hanging from the ceiling, bound and drugged, Donna realized there was little that she could do now and just hoped for the best.

“They must know what they’re doing, or else Ms. Brendan wouldn’t have put me through an entire skin treatment, would she?” Donna tried to convince herself, without much success.

After what seemed like ages, she was released from the ceiling and nearly collapsed to the floor. Sneaker girl guided her to a chair, where the two of them started to do her fingers. Donna could feel them applying paint to them.

She wondered more and more what they were doing to her. How did she look?

She could smell the paint, nail polish. They did her toenails too and fitted high heels back on her feet. The shoes were locked onto her ankles, as if she had the power to kick them off.

She was lifted and made to stand. She knew they were checking her out as she was turned around several times. Without thinking, Donna posed for them. At least they were paying attention to her.

It had been horrible to be left alone with nothing to see or hear. Just alone with her drug-fogged mind and the pain. She felt them correct certain parts on her body, repainting here and there.

They focused after a while on her vagina. Donna felt her juices leaking, and from their touches, the way that they pinched her, she understood that was a problem.

“Stand still!” she heard through her earphones.

It startled her and she stiffened. She had been so long without a sound. She felt something sharp splitting the coating between her legs.

“Look at that!” she heard Sonia say.

Donna felt her cumulated juices flow freely. With several towels, they wiped her wet thighs clean.

“She’s almost squirting all the time. We’ve got to stop the flow.”

“Turn off the mike.”And everything went silent again.

Donna could feel them cut away a part of the coating, leaving her vagina and ass available. It was extremely painful when they pulled off pieces of the thick paint, or whatever it was they coated on her.

Her sensitive skin burned, and she was happy she was still numb, so the pain didn’t register fully. But it didn’t go away neither.

She felt the cold soothing air of the room breathing onto her exposed lower lips and her asshole.

“It must be flaming red,” Donna told herself as she stood still, “I feel it tingling strangely.”

She felt them insert a tampon or something very much like one inside her vagina, probably to stop the flow. Again she was turned around several times and she knew they were discussing something again.

“Hold still again,” Donna heard through the earphones.

She wished that her attendants would leave the earphones on. The silence was not only scary; the absence of sound left her with nothing but her pain to think about. Made her feel her skin, her aching discomfort, with much more intensity.

Donna stood still and felt a knife cut very carefully about her nipple. They gently pulled away bits of the thick material. A much larger area than between her legs was now exposed and it hurt all the more for that.

She felt her nipples and part of the areola were now exposed and left burning. They stroked her nipples to make them harder to finish whatever it was they were doing to them.

Now her asshole, vagina and nipples were exposed, and she wondered what would be next.

“This looks better, having just her vagina exposed won’t do,” she heard Sneaker Girl snicker.

“Yes,” Sonia agreed, “although I liked it better when she was fully covered. But she is leaking too much. Even the tampon will have to be replaced regularly so we can’t cover her up.”

“It’s okay. I’m sure Ms. Brendan and her guest will love this look too. And this way, they can play a bit with her. Let’s finish up.”

They started to check her body again, and turned her around, gently guiding her to pose.

“Oh, the mike is still on!” and with that Donna plunged back into her silent private world.

Donna sighed as she understood she would be exposed to strangers one more time. Naked, and with some weird coating on her body.

But she was too drugged, too numb, to really care, she just took notice, and followed the girls’ commands.

She worried more about the pain. Whatever was on her was painful when it was being removed. How awful would it be once they would remove it from the rest of her body?

They fitted a collar around her neck, a thick one, forcing her head to lift up, and next she was pulled by a leash.

“Just as Ninon trained me yesterday,” Donna thought, “it figures...”

She walked awkwardly to the direction in which the leash pulled her. She actually even expected them to make her kneel, just like Ninon had done, but instead they just dragged her out into the cold and up the hill towards the party.

She welcomed the warmth of the mansion but even in her drugged state Donna started to panic. They were going to exposed her to the guests, naked, painted, totally helpless. And she couldn’t hear a thing except her own heartbeat!

In silence she was guided through the house, compounding her fears. Who was looking at her? What were they going to do to her?

When the procession finally stopped, Donna was positioned; her legs spread out a bit, her arms raised up, wrists and ankles cuffed, stretched just the way it had been done when they painted her. She was completely immobile when they finished.

Her legs were attached to the floor and she couldn’t move them one inch. Her body was stretched so tightly that she couldn’t even bend her arms. All she could do was wiggle a bit with her hips.

Suddenly, she was alone. Her female attendants had left her once they finished putting her on display. They were not touching her anymore.

Donna knew she was completely exposed. Anyone could see her breasts, nipples, her vagina, her ass, and she couldn’t do a thing about it. And where in the house was she? Who was looking at her? Was she just tied in a closet? She had no idea.

As she stood trying to guess what might come next, she could feel the drugs wearing off. Slowly yes, but it was happening even so, and in turn she felt pain, insidious aches and inflammations all over her body.

Everywhere where the paint was applied to her skin, where the cuffs touched her body, where the leather of her mask was tightly pressed on her skin, it started to hurt.

“Oh no,” Donna panicked, “the pain will be unbearable. How could they do this to me? How am I going to get this horrible paint off me without hurting myself even more, without turning myself into some sort of freak show?

“Was that the plan of Ms. Brendan’s plan all along, to turn me into something outrageous, to destroy me? But why? Why would she do that?”

Donna writhed and bucked against the straps that held her tight, and moaned as loud as she could, trying to get someone’s attention, to get help.

After a while, Donna calmed down and surrendered to her plight. It was no use; every move was painful. Now the numbness the drugs caused wasn’t there to protect her, it was best to just stand still.

More and more, she began to understand what Hell was awaiting her in the future as her anesthesia wore off. On the other hand, her head had begun to clear so that she could sense more of her surroundings. She could sense people walking around, and she felt music, a soft booming vibration.

She wasn’t in a closet, she was in an open space, filled with people. And these people were probably watching her!

Suddenly she felt fingers, nails touching her free nipples. It hurt but she was glad someone at least had noticed her. She moaned as loud as she could and shook her head as much as the collar allowed.

The fingers just kept softly playing with her nipples, and then also with her leaking vagina. They touched her bruised nether lips, and soon a finger entered her asshole too.

“Stop this please!” she thought. “Just let me out, help me!”

But no one could hear her thoughts, and they neglected her gagged mewling.

Then a soft wet tongue touched her vagina. The softness, gentleness, of the touch was amazing, and her vagina reacted almost immediately, producing a veritable flood of female juices.

“This feels good ... so good...” Donna thought surprised as she finally felt something other than pain at every touch.

The tongue gently, softly, explored her outer lips, and gently moved inside. She just felt the tongue, no teeth, no lips. Donna loved the feeling, the caresses.

She was in desperate need of some kindness amid all the abuse and pain and focusing on the tongue made the pain in the rest of her body bearable, forgettable. She almost automatically gave the tongue full access by spreading her thighs as far as her bondage allowed, jutting hips forward and her vagina out.

She wanted to show whoever it was that she liked it, that she was grateful.

“This is obscene,” Donna admitted as she did so, ashamed at her own actions, “But I can’t help it. It’s so good to have someone licking me so gently.

“And anyway, I’m already obscenely exposed for all to see,” she rationalized to herself. “It’s nothing more than what those people expect from me right now anyway. I might as well enjoy the moment and let myself enjoy how good it feels.”

And so she did. Having overcome her shame, or better, having purposely neglected her shame, she just let the good feeling, her arousal, raced ahead.

The tongue gently played with her lips and she gently bucked with her hips in synchronization, guiding the tongue to the places where she wanted it to be. And the tongue happily obliged and continued to explore her vagina.

The soft touches were wonderful, exhilarating, a true relief.

Suddenly, she heard soft sounds again, coming from her earphones. As the sound got louder, she recognized that she was listening to her own recording of her fuck sessions with Robert.

“No,” Donna squirmed, still enjoying the tongue but brought back to reality with a bang. “This is cruel!”

Her mind was now thinking of Robert, of her family, and she knew that was Ms. Brendan’s purpose. She thought of the weekend, remembered so many fucks. She thought of how she was betraying her family and her shame returned full force.

She fought hard with herself to stop her submission to the terrible kinky pleasure that she was given.

It was too much; it was so wrong to succumb to this obscene sex game, watched by many men and women, all the while listening to her own falsely enthusiastic fuck sounds.

“They want me to think of Robert fucking me as they lick me.”

As bad as that was, at the same time Donna knew it was working. When she fought the tongue, tried to move her body away, her movements only caused her more hurt while allowing the tongue to have its way with her, even though obscene, was nice, wonderful.

Helpless to resist and exhausted, Donna surrendered to the psychological torture, and just imagined it was Robert licking her. She imagined his hands on her body, molding her breasts, her hips, her ass, her thighs. Just like they wanted her to do.

“I can’t help it,” she hopelessly sobbed. “That tongue is too nice; it feels too good. I just need some relief from the pain. I can’t force myself to fight it anymore...”

She cried a few tears as she lost what little remained of her self-esteem. They had won.

“They’re all watching me, laughing at me, enjoying my humiliation,” Donna cringed. “But it’s impossible to fight, my body is reacting to their touches no matter what I do. I’m trained that way now. I can’t help myself. It is either pain or sexual relief.

“That’s how they force me to comply. And even my own body is now betraying me!”

Then she tried to convince herself once again: “It is only natural; anybody would give in.”

The tongue meanwhile continued to lick her juices away outside her vagina. Then it worked its way back in, softly touching her battered inside, as if to heal it with its touch.

Donna rolled her hips more in response, again loving every moment of it, while she fought off feelings of remorse, shame, and degradation.

She found that once she surrendered it became easy to freely imagine it was Robert, and to freely enjoy ‘his’ tongue. The noise of her own fuck sessions now only made it easier for her, and she embraced lurid fantasies where Robert was licking her, made her orgasm again and again, moaning in sync with her own screams coming from the speakers in her ears.

The tongue finally, and ever gently licked its way up to her clit. Gently the tongue withdrew, and as a cool breeze brushed over her opened vagina, its tip touched her clit softly. It tipped it a few times, making her shiver of joy every time. How wonderful!

Donna loved the feeling of the cool breeze and the gentle tip of the warm tongue. She hungered for release. Donna wanted to keep this good feeling; she wanted, needed the impending orgasm.

Totally distracted from her pain, away from the cruel world that trapped her.

“ ... Yes, Yes, Yes!!,” Donna screamed in her mind.

New images of her husband taking her brutally, hovering above her, his eyes full of lust for her. She loved him so much. She could see his hard cock ramming into her pussy, both of them crazed with lust as they used to be in the beginning. How good this felt, how hot she was.

But then the tongue stopped.

Donna waited a few moments, expecting the tongue to reappear, but it soon dawned on her it was over.

“Noooo... !”

She bucked a few times, arched her hips forward, searching for the tongue, but she found nothing. She was left hanging in her highly aroused state, juices leaking, almost spurting from her vagina.

The now cold breeze flowed across her wet lips, her opened vagina, making it all the more clear how badly she needed release.

“No!!” Donna screamed into her gag and bucked in her bondage, “No, no, no!!!”

But the tongue still didn’t return and she was left hanging with the sounds of her own fucking ringing in her ears.

Breathing heavily, she started frantically to imagine more explicit sex scenes: Robert fucking her, fucking her from behind, straddling him, sucking him off, him licking her pussy.

She dredged up memories of their weekend fuck matches, imagined his long hard dick, licking it, putting it in her cunt, fucking it. All to just get off, to avoid the pain she felt coming up.

And when that failed, she imagined faceless, muscular men, white men, black men, groups of men taking her. She thought of the porn pictures, the nastiest of the movies she had seen over the past months, desperate to find anything that would get her off, but it was to no avail.

She felt her arousal stall and begin to fade, then rapidly subside as the pain took over again until finally, broken, she hung her head in defeat.

Her heart pounded wildly, she was covered in sweat, and tortured by the knowledge that her audience had seen her in her most intimate state.

And with the pain’s return, so did her shame. And with the shame, her anger at herself blossomed. She had allowed herself to be played once again. She just knew they were laughing at her; self-satisfied and arrogant, enjoying her terrible predicament.

“Damn you all!” She cursed them silently, tears of frustration welling up in her eyes. “Damn you all!!”

The pain was back with more force than ever before. Her sexual arousal and then her anger had washed away the last remnants of the drugs in her system, and now she felt her body beginning to tremble with growing agony.

Her skin burned everywhere, save for the small spaces where none of the paint touched her body. At that same time, she was exhausted from her endless day of abuse, made worse by having hung on display for such a long time.

For what seemed an eternity, Donna dangled there, in pain, surrounded by the sounds of her endless fucking.

Almost without realizing, Donna drowsed off into something like sleep.

Without warning Donna’s head was lifted roughly and her blindfold was removed. Donna blinked in the sudden light coming in her eyes and groaned in surprise. She desperately hoped that whoever it was would now untie her, or at least her arms.

When she could see clearly, Donna saw Ms. Brendan in front of her, joined by another woman. They were discussing Donna, inspecting her. Donna made eye contact with Ms. Brendan, who smiled back as she and the other woman chatted on about her.

Donna knew that something was coming, that she was not about to be untied just yet.

Ms. Brendan was dressed in a black evening dress with shawl, black medium heeled shoes, her hair loose, freshly cut. Her face was made up with red lipstick as its only accent. She wore bits of jewelry that showed off her wealth.

But even how simply cut her designer clothing was, her harsh character, her dominance, showed through.

The woman with Ms. Brendan had a different presence. A black and white evening dress, dark blond hair, face neatly made up, beautiful shoes. She had a friendly smile and eyes, as she observed Donna.

Both of them were of a similar age, Donna guessed. She had expected to see her torturers in extravagant fetish clothing, all whips and leather. Yet the two women standing in front of her looked as if they were attending one more perfectly lovely and entirely ordinary tea party, just as how everything had looked from the outside when Donna first drove by the house.

Only when she looked passed them it became clear there was quite a different party going on.

Donna saw she was standing on a landing, half way up the wide stairs that leaded to the living room that she knew so well. The furniture had been moved, and the whole living room was now filled with large red comfortable sofas, pillowed chairs, all in the form more or less of female lips. Between those ‘lips’ small white podia where everywhere.

Everywhere you looked big lipstick, brushes, statues where decorating the room. All red of course. Some models very large, some small. The decorator had really gone overboard, they were everywhere you looked. The white painted walls were decorated stylish with pictures and paintings with the same theme; full red lips.

Either just the face of a woman with big red lips, or just red lips alone.

Also, several very large statues of lip sticks were against the walls.

The room was brightly lit, making it easy for everyone to see everything that was going on. Not the obscure dark dungeon she had expected.

All around people were sitting, standing, mingling just like in a normal cocktail party. Only now various women, girls, walked through them who were naked, or partly naked. And if dressed, it was obscene.

Donna’s eyes locked on a woman, naked on a small stage below to her right, who was fucking herself with a long, red, slickly-wet dildo. She was on her back, with her hips and ass high in the air, legs splayed, her high heels firmly planted on the floor, showing exactly what she was doing to a group of women sitting together below.

The woman was really putting on a show, moving wildly, shaking her head in ecstasy. She was thrusting her hips wildly on the dildo as she pumped the dildo roughly into her cunt. All the while smiling, and at times even conversing with her audience.

The women looked like an aged pornstar. Her skin was tanned just like Donna, but she had also various tattoos on her body: one on her right calf, on her upper arm a band, and one on her clearly fake left breast.

Donna couldn’t see clearly, but something was also glittering at her nipples and belly button. The woman’s fake platinum blond hair was tied straight backwards into a ponytail.

Her face was made up with red rouge, or she was just flushing from her actions. Donna couldn’t tell. Even though her face was made up heavily, Donna could see that the woman was older than she was, probably in her late forties, early fifties.

Her body was shining in the spotlight, probably oiled, but it maybe also sweaty. The woman had been going at it for quite a while, Donna guessed.

What made it all the more obscene, was the fact that the onlookers for whom she was performing paid her little, if any, attention. They were busy talking among themselves, glancing from time to time at the women giving her best, sometimes even commenting her on her performance.

Donna had no doubt that many of their remarks were cruel, given their arrogant laughter, yet the woman kept her smile and did her best to give a good show.

On the side of the room, where the glass doors led to the garden terrace, was a bar. In it, two women were attending to the needs of the women lounging by the bar. As they were close by, Donna could see their attire very well.

The two were dressed in stereotypical erotic black and white waitress dresses, with black stockings, the white apron, the white vest, their breasts pushed up in a corset, their fake platinum blond hair up, and their faces made up with long fake eye lashes. The outlines heavily painted with black, and dark red lipstick abundantly applied to their lips.

They were all smiles as they served drinks, and occasionally allowed the guests to touch them, usually bending over so they could pinch their tight trapped breast, or paint on them with the lipsticks in various red colors laying on the bar.

As Donna moved her eyes to yet another corner, she saw a larger stage opposite of her on the other side of the room where two women were pole dancing. The stage was also decorated with big fake lipstick tubes, even the poles were thin golden tubes, as were the spotlights.

 
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